


iWanna Be Friends With Benefits

by MonsterChild



Category: iCarly
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 11:32:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonsterChild/pseuds/MonsterChild
Summary: They've waited for years for something to happen.  They just didn't think it would happen this way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story that I started and posted to FF.net back in 2011. I planned to keep it up with a chapter a week until I deemed it finished, but I didn't. I posted one chapter and wrote most of a second but never got it finished.
> 
> I have no idea why I picked it back up, but I'm glad I did.
> 
> Hope you all like it. There's so very little Spam in the world.

She feels bare in front of him. It’s not because of the way he’s looking at her; it’s because of the way he’s _refusing_ to look at her. He hands her a glass of water, but he never looks directly at her. She takes the glass and takes a drink and _god_ , why won’t he look at her?

Really, she can’t believe the dumb luck that the night she and a few friends decide to go out clubbing that Spencer decides to go out for a drink and babe-hunting with Socko. It just so happened that a guy five years her senior was grinding up against her when Spencer approached them, and he demanded that she come home with him. That’s what she gets for using her fake ID.

Now, it just feels awkward.

* * *

 

Spencer needs her off his mind and out of his apartment. When Socko suggests that they go out for the night, all he can imagine doing is drinking enough to get her out of his head, and maybe even finding a girl to distract him. Then, he’s leaning against the bar at some club and commenting on the girl with curly blonde hair. From the looks of her, she must be twenty-something. Lengthy curves, milky skin, tight black dress and black heels that could kill. The guy she dances with can’t keep his hands off her and Spencer can see why. She’s gorgeous and…

Oh, shit. It’s Sam. This whole time he’s been practically eye-banging this girl, and then she turns and she’s Sam. And, damn, she looks good. And that guy is too close to her, touching her too much. His hand is on her bare thigh and Spencer can’t help but feel that that should be _his_ hand.

He’s been fighting his feelings for Sam for too long and she doesn’t seem to notice. She’s eighteen now; it’s legal, it’s perfectly alright, their age difference be damned. People marry people who are twenty years younger than them. It makes twelve years seem very small. That’s not his issue. Sam is the issue. She’s Carly’s best friend and important to them both, and it’s just too weird to pursue. It will never work.

It’s up to him to control his urges and let her fall for him on her own. Until he sees that guy with his hands all over her. He just has to get him away from her and then he’ll be able to feel like he can breathe again.

Socko calls his name, but Spencer can’t seem to stop himself. He approaches them and lays a hand on her shoulder. At first, her gaze is sultry and sexy, and his heart nearly stops by just that one look. But she realizes who it is and horror splashes across her face. He takes her hand in his and drags her from the dance floor, and the guy they leave behind is smart enough to let this go.

Spencer makes her put his jacket on over her dress, mostly because he can’t stop looking her bare legs and shoulders, and the jacket, while not long enough to cover her legs, makes her seem less exposed. Now, they’re back at his place and he feels like he needs to keep his distance.

* * *

“I don’t do this,” she says after ten minutes of silence. “I mean, this is the first time I’ve used my ID to get into a club. The only reason I have it is because my mom sometimes sends me out to get her booze.”

Spencer sits at the counter with the computer and just nods. He doesn’t feel like he can form words.

She sets down her glass and stands up, his jacket slipping off of her shoulders. The thought that Spencer could be mad at her drives her crazy. She doesn’t want him to be mad; she can’t have him mad at her. Her crush on him has exploded over the past several weeks, going from a crush to a need. The only reason she went with her friends was because she didn’t think she could stand being alone with him in this apartment for another night. Not without doing something crazy.

“Don’t be mad at me,” she begs as she moves closer to him. “My mom can be mad at me, even Carly, but not you.”

Spencer’s barely listening. All he can comprehend is her moving closer to him, wearing that dress and those heels and he’s having trouble looking away from her legs.

She’s standing right in front of him and places her hands on his legs, making sure his eyes meet hers. “Spencer? Don’t be mad at me.”

Her words are starting to register in his brain and her big brown eyes are staring at him, and he gets it. She doesn’t care about what other people think, just him. And the way she’s looking at him… They both feel this.

The next thing either of them knows, Spencer has her pushed against the nearest wall, his mouth meeting hers hungrily. She tastes like cherry and normally he hates cherry, but she makes it taste good. Her hands are clawing at his shoulders as one of his is clutching her thigh tightly. In a swift movement, his other hand latches onto her other leg and hoists her up, only his hands and the wall supporting her.

She gasps at the sudden change, feeling his hardness through his jeans. Her head falls back, inviting Spencer’s lips down her neck. He obliges, kissing, sucking, and nipping all the way down to her collarbone. The sound of her panting in his ear drives him wild and he presses against her more, wanting to feel every curve, wanting more than he can ask for.

Her hands fumble with the bottom of his t-shirt, yanking it over his head and helping it down his arms before tossing it to the floor. Her nails are digging into his shoulders as he grinds harder against her. He sucks hungrily on her collarbone, the skin turning a purplish hue, as her heels press into his low back.

One hand slides under the edge of her dress and he grows harder at the sudden realization that she’s not wearing any underwear. She whimpers in his ear as his hand clutches her ass. Her body squirms against him, and god, he wants to take this further, but it’s Sam and he needs to stop. They _should_ stop.

“Sam,” Spencer croaks, trying his best to keep the ecstasy out of his voice, “we should-”

“No, we shouldn’t,” she insists as she removes her legs from his waist. Slowly, she turns them until his back is against the wall. As she knelt down in front of him and started tugging at the button and zipper of his jeans, he can’t find his voice to protest. His body needs her, only her, even though part of him knew that there was something wrong with this.

She pulls his boxers down just far enough for his cock to spring loose of its confinement and puts her lips around the head of it, her tongue running over the tender skin. He begins losing himself in her mouth; the wet warmth, the sure movement of her tongue along the shaft, her mouth moving up and down… He could barely stay standing.

Just when he thinks he won’t be able to keep himself from cumming in her mouth, she pulls away from him. The split second that their bodies are away from each other is too long so he brings her back to him, spinning her around and pushing her up against the wall again.

“Fuck me,” she demands through hurried kisses. “God, Spencer, fuck me.”

All logic and sensibility leaves him at those words. All he knows is that he wants her so badly. Once again he lifts her up, her weight supported against the wall, and he tugs up her dress. His fingers slide inside her, her wetness surrounding and clenching around his fingers. Sam leans in and catches his earlobe in between her teeth. “Fuck me,” she insists.

He doesn’t need to be told again. His fingers slip out and once his dick is aligned at her entrance, he pulls her body down onto him. She cries out at the sensation, and he’s almost lost his mind already. The feeling of her clenching around him like a wet sheath is sending all sorts of sensations through his body.

She rocks against him, demanding his attention, and he starts thrusting into her slowly. The slow moans that start coming out of her spur him on, and as his thrusts get faster, she struggles to find anything to grip onto. The rhythm gets faster and faster and she starts screaming his name as if it’s the only thing keeping her sane.

She cums, her body seizing around and against him, her breath ragged and a heavy moan dying on her lips. He continues thrusting hurriedly before slowing and thrusting a few more times, a groan falling out of his throat. They stay like that, the wall supporting their weight, neither one feeling able to move and neither really wanting to.

After several moments, she finds her footing and Spencer pulls away from her, yanking his jeans back on. He’s not sure how this happened and he’s not sure what to say. Sam doesn’t seem to think that anything’s wrong or weird… He can’t seem to do anything but watch her.

She tugs down her dress, smoothing out the fabric, and flips her hair over her shoulder. The look she gives Spencer is a mix of pleasure and deviousness. “Can we not tell anyone about this?”

He nods because he’s not sure what else to do. The answer seems to please her since she walks over to him, and with her body leaning into his, kisses his cheek. “Thanks, Spencer. I’ll be around.”

Spencer can’t make his body move. Not one single part, not even to open his damn mouth and say, “We should talk about this,” or something. No, he just stands there and let’s her walk out the door, and all the while, he’s trying to think of what she means by, “I’ll be around.”


	2. Chapter 2

Their second encounter comes a few days later.  It’s almost three in the morning and Spencer isn’t sleeping.  He’s trying, but he can’t seem to fall asleep.  The fact that Sam’s sleeping in Carly’s room just one floor up doesn’t help matters.  He doesn’t understand what happened the other day, but he can’t get it out of his head.  The rush of no one knowing, the passion he and Sam have, the intensity of it all.  His body can still feel hers and he needs it.  He needs it more than words can even describe.

He’s been on the couch staring blankly at the TV when Sam creeps down the stairs and silently sits down next to him.  Spencer’s entire body stiffens at her presence.  Sam requested that they didn’t tell anyone, but did that mean that they couldn’t talk about it either?  And he was dying to say something about it, just to make sure that it wasn’t all in his head.

With a yawn, Sam stretches her arms over her head and it’s that moment that Spencer realizes that she’s not wearing a bra, just a white tank top and a pair of yellow Spongebob boxers.  His eyes devour every inch of her: the curve and swell of her breasts, the smooth plane of her stomach, the creases that the muscles underneath her skin create.  He wants to run his hands, and his mouth, over every part of her.

But there’s no way in hell that he’s going to proposition her.  As far as he knows, the other night was a one-time deal, never to be repeated, never to be thought of again.  And he shouldn’t be the one to bring it up.  She’s the younger one, the one who brought this all on.  She holds the power and that is a very scary thought.

With the silence still holding its place, Sam scoots a little closer to him.  She slides against his side, forcing his arm around her shoulder and resting her head against his chest.  One hand snakes behind his back, the other resting on his thigh.  One of her knees is touching his.  Everything single place she is touching him is on fire.  He’s not sure he can hold out much longer.

After a few moments of tense silence and both of them staying as still as statues, Sam relaxes and slowly starts dragging her hand up his thigh.  Just a little higher, before going back towards his knee, and then farther up on her second pass.  The message is clear; she’s up for more, is he?  Practically an engraved invitation, but he still doesn’t move.  He doesn’t take up the offer until her hand slides to cover his bulge and _squeezes._

A growl comes from his throat, without him even realizing he does it, as he grips her hips and shifts her suddenly. She gasps but follows along, helping Spencer arrange her on his lap.  With her comfortably straddling his lap, his hands find her face and pulls her in for a heated kiss. He licks his way into her mouth, and their tongues clash.  His hands leave her face to tangle into her curly blonde hair, silky and soft in his rough and calloused fingers, and _tugs._   She whimpers against his mouth, and in retaliation, she grinds her hips down against his erection.  They both gasp at the sensation.  “Sam..” he groans.

Sam breaks the kiss with a sly smile, nips at his chin, and slides down his body, kissing and nipping at clothed skin.  She lands on her knees on the floor in front of him and kisses his dick softly through the fabric of his hotdog print pajama pants.  Spencer’s hand rests on her shoulder, drawing lazy circles over the soft skin.  Sam kisses him again before pulling the waistband out and over his straining erection.  She takes her time with him this time, looks him over as her fingers dancing over the shaft before wrapping her lips around the tip.  At first, she swirls her tongue over the head, hitting nerve after nerve.  Then her throat relaxes, and she takes him fully into her mouth.  He has to force himself to keep his eyes open, to stay firmly planted in this moment, to make sure this, too, was really happening.

Of its own accord, his hand glides up her shoulder and ghosts over her neck, finding a home in the velvety tendrils of her golden curls.  Spencer’s fingers close around a clump of her hair as she takes him deeper into her mouth than any other girls before her.  A groan forces its way out of his chest and Sam digs her fingers into his thighs where they rest.  Slowly, painfully slow, her mouth begins to slide up and down the shaft, her tongue starting thoughtful ministrations as she doesn’t.  But it’s almost too agonizing a pace for Spencer, and he can’t help but use his leverage on her head to speed up the movements.

He lets it go on for as long as he can take before yanking her head up and kissing her forcefully on the lips.  She tastes like him, and there’s something visceral inside him that loves that.  Her hand finds a home on his dick and plays gently while her mouth is occupied by his.  He trails his kisses down her chin and neck, finding the fading hickey from the few nights before and sucking eagerly to renew it.  If he can’t tell anyone about this, he is certainly going to leave a reminder to both of them that this really happened.

Sam lets out a small whimper that sounds something like his name as his teeth bear down on her flesh.  The fact that he’s the one causing her to make that noise spurs him on, inciting that same visceral pleasure.  The small part in the back of his mind that keeps begging him to back up and think is slowly fading.  Their initial encounter had been random and out-of-the-blue, and while this isn’t exactly planned, it doesn’t feel unwarranted.

Sam situates herself on his lap again, knees squeezing his hips as his exposed cock meets the damp fabric of her boxers.  Without ceremony, he pushes her tank top up past her breasts, exposing them to him.  God, what an idiot he was last time, not taking his time to undress her and take in every gorgeous element of her.  Her breasts are perfect.  Not too small but not too big to fit in his hands, which he takes a moment to test on.  Their weight lays in his hands, and her pert and rosy pink nipples slide under his rough thumbs easily.  A strange mix of a whimper and a sigh falls from her lips, and he kisses it away while his fingers play.  He pinches and twists the nipples, squeezes her breasts.  She whines and bites his bottom lip.  He pulls away, not before nipping her bottom lip in return.  As he takes a moment to breathe her in, he sees how disheveled she actually is.  Lips swollen and red, a harsh blush across her cheeks, blonde curls tangled from where he held it before.  She was completely undone.  Because of him.  It spurs him on, and he dips his head to her breasts.  His tongue swirls around the swell of one before his teeth latch onto the nipple.  She cries out at the sensation, arching her back, urging more out of him.  She grinds down, and stars erupt behind his eyes.  Almost every part of her is touching him.  And, still he wants more.

His mouth stays on her, playing and making her mewl.  One hand grips her body as if she would fall away from him while the other slithers down her toned stomach and into the waistband of her boxers.  Spencer’s determined to spend some time exploring her this time around since they felt so rushed last time.  His hand covers her mound and he slips a finger inside her already-wet folds.  As he brushes her clit, she moans, and her body shivers.  His touch is so gentle that it feels like he’s barely touching her, and her whole being is crying out for more.  Her hips buck up, urging him on, but he just continues his teasingly light touch as he sucks on her nipple.

Her toes curl, sweat dots her forehead, and before she even has time to recognize it, a wave hits her hard and sends her over the edge.  Her body seizes up, she clenches around his fingers, and she keens, “Spencer!”

His mouth crushes back onto hers as if to devour his name on her lips.  He strokes her clit and slides his fingers in and out to help her down from her orgasm.  Their foreheads meet, hers resting against his, and her body shudders as she finally comes down from the high of Spencer.  They sit like that for a moment as she pants and tries to slow her racing heart.  Once her breathing slows, he says to her softly, “We can stop if you want.”

Her head snaps up to meet his eyes, at first looking concerned.  But, as soon as she looks at him, he sees a devious smile cross her lips.  She leans closer to him, her mouth meeting his ear.  “I never want to stop,” she breathes before catching his ear lobe between her teeth.

In less than a second, Spencer’s pants are down at his ankles, and Sam’s boxers are pushed to the side, just enough. She takes charge with lining him up with her and sinks down onto him.  She cries out at the sudden sensation, Spencer’s strangled groan joining in with it, as she takes him in completely.  They take the moment to let her stretch to his size, and to let the stars in Spencer’s eyes to clear.

Sam is the one that gets them started again, grinding down on him with a slow and torturous pace.  As much as he wants to just grab her hips and slam up into her, he lets her have this, lets her take control this time.  Her head falls back as she rides him, enjoying every second of him sliding in and out of her.  Her tight pussy around him is intoxicating, addicting, the most wonderful thing he’s ever felt.  He doesn’t want it to end.  He wants to get her to come again and again before their time today is done.

With that in mind, he goes back to his previous position: one hand around her back to hold her steady, the other between their bodies, his thumb rubbing her clit, and his mouth at her chest.  It doesn’t take long before she’s clenching around him and practically _screaming_.  Again, he helps her ride it out and come down, and she rests her head on his shoulder this time.  In the few moments that they stay still, he feels her involuntarily clench around him every time her heart beats.  He turns his head just enough to kiss her sweaty temple.

When she starts moving again, he can’t take the slow pace anymore.  “Sam…” he moans.

She smirks and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.  “Fuck me, Spencer.”

Spencer certainly knows how to follow directions.  He grabs her hips and thrusts up into her, just like he wanted.  There’s several clumsy thrusts before he finds his rhythm, but when he does, it’s fucking amazing.  Her cunt fits tightly around him, warm and wet.  She meets him thrust for thrust, grinding down when he juts up. He’s getting closer and closer.

Suddenly, Sam shifts on top of him, changing the angle of his thrust, and he bottoms out.  She moans loudly as he hits that spot deep inside of her, and it takes only a few more thrusts before she’s clenching tight around him for the second time.  Her orgasm sends him into his own, spilling into her, his last few thrusts slow before stopping.

They stay as they are, Sam slumped against Spencer as they both try to catch their breath, him still buried deep inside her.  It’s only a minute, or maybe an eternity, before she sits up and dismounts him.  She readjusts her clothes, pushing her shirt back over her breasts and stomach and shifting her shorts back into place.  She watches as Spencer slips back into his pants, and he meets her eyes with a soft and contemplative stare.

“Thanks, Spencer,” she says with a soft smile.  “I think I’ll be able to sleep now.”

He watches her as she walks around the couch and heads toward the stair.  He only stops her when she’s reached the landing.  “Sam,” he calls, turning just enough to face her.

She stills, her hand on the rail, and looks back at him with an even stare.  The neutral look on her face tells him all he needs to know: they aren’t talking about this, she isn’t mad at him, but he needs to keep a grip on what is obviously becoming a friends-with benefits deal.  “Yeah?”

He was going to ask her about what was happening, about how they were going to proceed, if they were still keeping this a secret.  But, the look says everything so instead, he says, “Sleep tight.”

She smiles back at him.  “You too,” she says before heading up the rest of the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this, everybody!
> 
> I'm going to try to keep this going but, you know, life happens.
> 
> Please leave comments, kudos, or subscribe!


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